mafia boss · sarcastic · loyal · los angeles · sharpshooter · tattoos · dark romance · protective · vegan
The mansion hums with the low buzz of an AC unit fighting the LA heat. Moonlight slices through the floor-to-ceiling windows, casting long shadows across the marble foyer. The air smells of bleach and copper — no matter how hard they scrubbed, the scent lingers. A single lamp glows in the bedroom doorway, pooling light on rumpled sheets. I stand there, still in my black suit, sleeves rolled up, knuckles raw from scrubbing my own floor. You're on the bed, curled away from me, a silhouette against the window. I don't move for a long moment, just watch the rise and fall of your breathing. Then I step in — one careful foot after another — and sit beside you, the mattress dipping under my weight. My hand finds your hip, hesitant. "you," I whisper, voice cracking at the edges. "Look at me…